


Hypothetically, of course.

by LostnThoughtless



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bad Flirting, Drinking, Drunken Shenanigans, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nonsense, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26126395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostnThoughtless/pseuds/LostnThoughtless
Summary: Two idiots (and they were roommates) play a drunken game of twenty questions where everything is hypothetical (and the author can't count) and the points don't count.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 181





	Hypothetically, of course.

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh instead of working my hand slipped and here we are. Aged up etc etc (mid 20s? idk, let's go with that), I don't grasp ratings because I'ma simple enby and I don't like to think too hard about stuff; some cussing, some drinking, otherwise pretty clean? No beta, I will die on this hill solo.

There was a lull in conversation; silence engulfing, comfortably, for the moment. It said something, when the clutter of noise and words didn't have to fill the air between two people.

It didn't last, though. It was awkward in a way that it promised a false sense of security. Neither was willing to accept the what ifs it suggested, not because the idea was wrong or unwanted; because it was a case of an immovable object somehow finding itself pitted against an equally unyielding object. Both objects, idiots.

"So. Wanna play a hypothetical game of twenty questions." A statement, more than a question; gold eyes shined with an instigating gleam, while his pale hand reached for what was left of the bottle of sake.

"I thought you'd never ask, Zuzu." A grin met with an attempt of a pained scowl; it wasn't landing, they both knew he liked it.

"Oh, okay. Well." A scoff; liquid pouring into a small cup from a mismatched set found at a thift store. "Since it's going to be like that, I'll start." Fake offense lingered in Zuko's voice; he sipped, a side glance. "If I murdered you right now, on a scale of one to ten, how bad would you haunt me."

"Oh, fiesty!" A laugh, followed by his own cup being downed; he reached for the nearly empty bottle, dumping the rest in his cup. "I'ma go with a straight ten, but if you'd get another bottle..." Sokka shook it, for emphasis "I could go as low as an eight."

"You've never gone for an eight in your life and you know it." It was his turn to act wounded, for a second, as Zuko stood to meander (definitely didn't stumble upon standing, absolutely not) to the kitchen.

"Fair, fair, but in the haunting department I feel an eight would still be enough to drive you insane."

A hum of acknowledgement, a fair statement; hands rummaging in the pantry.

"My turn, let's see.... let's see." He stroked his chin, pretending to think hard; as if this drunken game they played weekly was suddenly a high risk-high reward game of competitive pai sho. "How much would you hate me if I tossed all of our clothes in a single load."

That netted another round of silence; briefly, before the rummaging began anew. "That, depends."

"Oh? Variables, intriguing." Sokka's eyes danced with curiosity, as his roommate (god, they were roommates) sauntered back with a fresh bottle. "Lay the variables on me, my dude."

"One, this is still hypothetically speaking yes?"

"Yes." A pause, a very notable pause. "Mostly. Mostly, yes."

Another knowing hum, as the bottle was forcefully opened. "Two, elaborate on all, our clothes." Pointed, ouch.

"All of them. The whole color spectrum. Single load."

"I see. Well." Insert the first class view of what Sokka usually referred to as 'prissy Zuko'; most of their friends lacked the majesty of the performance, and there would be a lot of lying involved if he admitted to the... possessive feeling to keep the show to himself. The look was cold, lips in a sharp smirk, slender fingers (not that he noticed, never. constantly) strangling the bottle, hips uneven as a foot tapped the floor lightly; gold eyes tearing a whole through his very existence. "Since this is hypothetical of course, I'd burn everything you own."

"Everything, huh." He mused, eyes suddenly deciding his glass; the one Zuko snatched, and was filling for him, was way more interesting.

"Yuup." The glass returned, bottle less aggressively placed on the coffee table. "Your clothes, your books, your computer.... honestly the entire apartment complex." He sat, falling into a cross legged position; eyes still burning a hole through his friend. "Is that why several of my, rather expensive I might add, shirts seem to be missing?"

"Is that going to be your question for your turn?"

"It absolutely is."

Damn. "Well, then, ahh.." He wavered, gulping down far too much from his cup. "Maybe?"

Zuko sat, glare unwavering from him and in this moment there was only one real thought screaming in Sokka's head; fuck he was both adorable and absolutely terrifying when he was being intimidating. Sadly, Zuko knew this; such valuable knowledge had been bestowed upon him one fabled evening when there was too much alcohol teamed with a heated game of nationopoly. To say he wasn't using it, knowingly, as he sat cradling his cup with both hands; keeping the direct eye contact, while sipping slowly. A few seconds passed, before he finally snorted; unable to keep the intensity going without admitting to his own selfish desires; he leaned to the side just enough to give his friend a shove with his foot.

"The shirts were stuffy and old anyways." Sokka looked offended by his pointless torment (secretly loving it), which was awarded a laugh. "Go."

Dark fingers drummed lightly on his cup. Strong, fingers, Zuko mentally noted; the kind that could be soft, or could choke you in a good way. Not that he was into that, necessarily, but it was a noted thought regardless. 

"What ridiculous tv show is your kindred spirit." Sokka had some opinions; turns out, they were all very wrong.

"Storage Wars."

"WHAT??" His cup almost went flying; horrible dark, strong, accusatory fingers pointing. "What, how."

A second was all it took for the smaller, raven haired, poster child of dark and mysterious, complete with a ridiculously sexy scar across half his face, to go from all that to an unhinged hot mess; his painstakingly perfect ponytail crooked as it got caught between his back and the armrest, eyes guilty, face blushed, fingers clutching desperately to his now empty cup. "I.... I thought you knew."

"Explain yourself Zuzu. I demand answers!" A show; they could win a fucking oscar.

"I mean, come on Sokka" A wounded sound was made; their relationship would never recover. "The mystery, the gamble, tearing through piles of worthless shit someone paid to store, judging them entirely by the junk they behind, only to find hidden treasures that barely cover the cost of the unit. How am I being judged right now." He leaned, avoiding all eye contact to feign his discontent with the question; grabbing the bottle to refill his cup." This trial is rigged and you should expect to hear from my lawyers. "

"A delightful performance" he held his hand out, making grabbing motions for the bottle, "if this was up for rating I'd give you tens across the board." He poured, "Your go."

"Oh absolutely the same question."

"What a plot twist." In hindsight, Sokka should have seen that coming; why he was blindsided he, well he did know. It was always a treat to watch his friend go from his polished ruse to a disheveled shitshow and he got caught in the moment. "She-Ra, obviously."

Zuko choked on sake. "Excuse me??" He whined, despite himself. "Original or reboot."

"I'm offended you even asked," A curt huff as he glanced away; which took all of his effort to do, he'd note. "Reboot, and" a pause, pointing a lone finger at Zuko for dramatic effect, "Because I know it's the follow-up side question... Adora, aka the legend that is She-ra, herself."

Speechless. For a moment. A few moments. Several, if anyone was counting; Sokka could hear the gears churning, hoping all the fabricated dots being connected were in his favor. "And whom, might I ask despite being out of turn.."

"I'll allow it."

"... Would I be, in this hypothetical scenario of Etheria."

"Glad I allowed it, because obviously you're Catra."

Another round of well earned silence and wrecked Zuko; to say Sokka wasn't living would be the understatement of the year. Zuko, despite himself, was a spitting image of the mind working in double time; brain setting up white boards and rushing to find pushpins to create a vast collage of utterly unrelated information. His mouth opened, index finger raised as if preparing to defend himself, before the case fell apart in front of him; his hand dropped, he took a sip of sake. "Touche.... your turn." he added, haphazardly; suddenly, absolutely regretting and equally not regretting tonight's game.

"So since I have no clue what you're over analyzing over there," Sokka's hand raised to shush, knowing interjections would be incoming, "Because yes, I can quite literally hear the grinding of gears, here's my hypothetical question." A pause, he hoped it came off as 'for the dramatic effect'; it wasn't, it was to quell his nerves. This hadn't been his intention for tonight, but his subconscious apparently was tired of his bullshit and had backed him in an unescapable corner. "If I faked my own death and was never seen again, how upset would you be?"

"What does the question have to do with whatever I'm, as you claim, over analyzing?"

"Variables."

"...variables?" Zuko paused; a touch confused, and willing to internally admit that yeah okay maybe he was... kinda, sorta, absolutely over analyzing right now. 

"Yup." Sokka nodded, adding nothing else. "Your answer."

"Well." Agni be with him; he sipped, half stretching, leaning more haphazardly into the side of the couch. Heavily considering bolting for the door. "I suppose after I finished burning this building to the ground, and my Uncle helped pay for the insanity plea that got me out of jail" he rattled on, waving a hand about vaguely "I would probably miss you quite a lot."

Sokka instantly looked gutwrenching pathetic; eyes big, watering slightly, lopsided painfully adorable grin on his face. "You'd miss me? Really??" Like he didn't fucking know... right?

"Y... yeah?" Zuko's voice, usually demanding, sharp, and a bit rough came out meek and about ten notes higher than it usually sounded; his eyes quickly returning to the front door, his escape plan.

"Awwww!!" It was too late, he was attacked, in a cinematic slow motion sorta way; Sokka's emptyish cup (he'd get scolded later for that) cast aside to the floor, arms outstretched, his body damn near colliding with the considerably smaller one across from him, not even an inch left between them in the most suggestive way possible.

In Zuko's mind, he also noted: that cup had better have been empty, oh agni why, if this was a prank this building better kiss it's brickass good bye because it will be lighting up the night sky, a sudden understanding of why opossum-cats faint when ambushed, and oh. He forgot how to breathe.

"I.. I, uh.." the usually quick to snap, ever cleverly worded, prince of sass was fumbling; hard. "Coulda dropped my sake."

"Your cups empty Zuko."

"Oh," a strangled breath, finally; glancing quickly to the indeed empty cup as he apparently deciding against fainting like a cornered opossum-cat. "So it, uh... is."

"Your turn you know." Sokka didn't move from where he was, very intentionally, pinning his... roommate... friend... crush... words, to the side of the couch; one hand bracing himself against the armrest, one hand placed meticulously on Zuko's hip (he saw the glances at the door, nope, not gonna happen), knees delightfully placed in between another set of legs.

"Oh." Vague response. Thoughts missing; a marvel note, considering how fast it was going just minutes earlier. "So, whatcha doing?"

"Hypothetically, or literally?"

"Erm, variably."

A hum, a glance to the ceiling; the agony of silence. "Any enlightenment on the potential variably in question?"

That netted a sly smirk. "No chance whatsoever." Figures. 

"Well, I suppose in the literal sense, I'm enjoying the view." He earned a reddish tint, a strangled sorta noise; not bad. He shifted his weight slightly, leaning somehow closer, grinning just a bit more seductive (he, for all intent ls and purposes knew damn well what he was doing) (usually), "less hypothetically, I'm attempting to engage in what I like to refer to as competitive flirting." 

"Which... which is, what exactly?" Ah, the gears were whirling again. 

"Casual flirting didn't seem to be very effective, so I'm attempting my new brand of competitive flirting. The opposite of casual." Just a short, pause. "Trademarked, I will sue you." 

"Is that so." A slow squinting glare, a distinctive smirk. 

"To which?" 

"Is that your question" 

"No. Absolutely not." Curiosity aside, considering he had Zuko right where he wanted him in this moment, he wasn't drunk enough to waste a question. "Is it working?" 

"Is... is what working." So casual it burned. 

"Zuko... I swear to the spirits I will choke you to death.." There was absolutely no way Sokka could hide the frustration in his voice; couldn't be done, absolutely impossible. To which, the absolute jerk had the audacity to laugh. To, laugh. "You know I'm trying to actually, kinda, be seri--" was all he managed to whine out. 

Despite his better judgment, his cup was tossed aside (it was empty but technically nothing was ever empty, it would stain and he knew it) in favor of running his hands across Sokka's shoulders; painfully slow, then moving into his hair to pull him down for a kiss so chaste it was barely felt. To be an ass. "Yeah? Serious, huh." 

"I uh, you know uh."

"Hmm. You're cute when your brain stops." 

"It absolutely hasn't stopped, I'm just considering if I should choke you or not." 

"In a good way or a bad way?" Zuko's eyes narrowed again; hands falling, propping himself up smugly on the armrest. "Hypothetically, of course."

Three doors down, someone's startled poodleferret started barking due to the laugh scream that rang into the hallway.

**Author's Note:**

> Aye so stating some obvious non-facts.
> 
> 1\. No idea what an opossum-cat or poodleferret actually are, I like to just make shit up as I go.  
> 2\. Nationopoly is absolutely 100% monopoly and I play it very competitively. I have thoughts on a game night fic regarding this topic. Lemme know if y'all are down, I'll make it happen.  
> 3\. I have a potential hurricane coming for me, and I found a cocktail (my hand slipped) so I kinda forgot the other thing I was gonna say. Let's go with sorry about, insert thing I probably shoulda done but didn't. Be gay, do (writing) crimes.


End file.
